


and they were quarantined

by g0ryllama



Series: Murrmin ;) [18]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Blow Jobs, I don't know...what else to say, M/M, Quarantine, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, it's been a while and this is how I come back???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23222368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g0ryllama/pseuds/g0ryllama
Summary: oh my god they were quarantinedThere's a growing fear of a nasty bug around the valley after some of the inhabitants get sick. Everyone decides that it'd be a good idea to stay indoors until everyone feels better.But Moomin and Snufkin get bored.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Series: Murrmin ;) [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1368385
Comments: 24
Kudos: 197





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ...hi it's been a while sjjdjd

It's been a week since Snufkin practically moved into Moominhouse to avoid the illness currently making its way around the valley. It's not so bad; they let him have the space he needs and Moomin only laughed about him setting up his tent in his bedroom for the first two nights before it became routine. 

But there's only so many nights he can sit on the window ledge or the banister and play tunes on his harmonica for the others to dance to before the boredom and need to adventure begins to crawl its way back into his muscles. Apparently seven, really, because he's itching to run away now and every nerve in his body seems to buzz with trapped energy (so much so that every now and then, he finds the need to shake it all out virtually irresistible).

Snufkin knows better though, the stupid bug is airborne and he can't get ill because then he'll be stuck, being looked after and worrying everyone. And more importantly, he might then also spread it around to the Moomins and Little My and Muskrat and Snorkmaiden, who are also waiting out the self-isolation at Moominhouse, so stuck and bored he must remain until the illness has run its course.

Through the whole valley.

And they're sure no one else will catch it.

The urge to fall flat on his face and groan out all his frustrations into the wooden planks on the floor is tempting, but he resists, opting instead to watch Moomin and My argue about something or other for the fifth time this morning.

"For such good friends they sure do argue a lot," Snorkmaiden contemplates from beside him on the sofa, watching the other two squabble as well. "I can't even remember why they're arguing now."

He shrugs, tapping a light sequence on his knee as something to do. "Being cooped up in close quarters for so long can drive anyone to the point of insanity. I say we should be thankful they haven't started breaking things yet."

She huffs out a small laugh, rolling her eyes. "I suppose you're right. How much longer do you think we'll last before they burn down the house?"

"A day at most."

They laugh quietly, ignoring the way Moomin and Little My glare over at them when they notice.

* * *

"Snufkin?"

"Yes Moomin?"

"I'm bored."

Rolling his eyes, Snufkin rolls over onto his stomach and looks up towards the bed from the opening in his tent, head resting on his palms. "Me too." Normally he'd suggest something fun they could do, an adventure they could partake in or a trip they could take, but there's nothing for them to do now.

Haloed by the moonlight streaming in from his window, Moomin looks just as underwhelmed by his response as he is himself. It's a nice sight though so Snufkin doesn't mind in the least.

"Join me up here?" The troll asks, and normally Snufkin might say no, not because he doesn't like sharing space with the other but more out of a need to keep a tight leash on his own feelings and thoughts. Although now… Well his boredom has reached levels to which he's willing to be completely reckless.

So naturally he resigns himself to being stupid in his cabin fever and climbs out of his tent to join his best friend in his bed.

(He's aware it isn't the first time the two of them have shared a bed. This won't even be in the first ten instances, but still. It's the first time Snufkin is willing to join him knowing that he won't be able to control his thoughts.)

The walk over to the bed feels like the most intense thing he's ever done and the easiest thing, simultaneously. And he feels a little silly making it out as such a big deal, and as he snuggles under the covers, pressed side by side to Moomin, the confusion multiplies.

Though, maybe it's the bed, or maybe it's Moomintroll himself, but he feels a lot calmer already, all of his worries and tension just melting away into something manageable.

Together, without speaking much more, they fall asleep, resting more soundly than they have since the quarantine began.

* * *

It becomes habitual. Snufkin always starts the night out in his tent, trying to deny whatever feelings he has, until Moomin asks him to join him in the bed, and then he does. It gets easier each night, less thought and more muscle memory pulling him under the covers and against his friend.

At least with this new development, Snufkin has something to occupy his boredom-addled mind during the day and night, making his cabin fever somewhat manageable (even if it's still a worrying development). He'd still rather not be dealing with it though.

"You look distracted," My says as she waves her jam covered knife in his general direction at the breakfast table. "What's going on under that hat?"

Snufkin isn't an idiot; he can see the mischievous gleam in her eyes, and he's known her long enough to know that she's digging for blackmail material to hold above him if she needs something from him. "Nothing to concern you, Little My."

She narrows her eyes as he emphasises the 'Little' in her name subtly, the knife making a loud clatter against the side of her plate. "See, a little bird told me that you and Moomin have been- hey!"

Moomin smiles without it reaching his eyes, the tea cosy from the teapot now firmly held over the mymble to quieten her. "Good morning everyone." My's muffled sounds of objection continue, but no one really pays attention, echoing the troll's greeting without much enthusiasm.

The quarantine isn't just affecting Snufkin's mood anymore. Being unable to do anything they usually do, being stuck in close quarters almost non-stop other than bathroom breaks… It's a wonder the house is still standing.

The tea cosy lands firmly on the kitchen counter when My throws it off her, brows furrowed. "I was just asking."

"No you weren't," Snorkmaiden sighs, sounding the least bit interested. "You're being a nosey so-and-so."

"That's rich, coming from someone with as big a nose as you."

"Girls, please," Mamma sounds more exhausted than any of them, which Snufkin thinks is perfectly understandable, given she has to deal with the most of everyone's bad behaviour out of all of them. If 'I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed' had a voice, it'd be the one she uses most often right now. "If you must argue, could you do it in your own room, and not at the breakfast table?"

They stop arguing, but the tension is already skyrocketing once again.

He hopes the quarantine will be over soon, or he might just leave anyway. A bad illness doesn't sound like the worst case scenario anymore.

* * *

That night, as both he and Moomintroll begin to settle in for the night, Snufkin doesn't even bother with getting into his tent, given that he knows he'll be leaving it for the bed in less than an hour anyway. So instead, as Moomin finishes taking a bath, the mumrik climbs under the covers and lies down on his side of the small bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He feels… Strange, tonight. Different. Like there's an air around the two of them that has changed since the first night they shared the bed in the quarantine. It's not bad in itself, but Snufkin can tell it could end badly.

Reckless. The boredom has reached the point where he's more than willing to be reckless, if only to sate the boredom for some time. And that feels dangerous.

(But even danger doesn't sound so bad right now.)

"Oh," a voice exclaims from the door as Moomin wanders in, eyes wide like a rabbit in torchlight. "Snufkin."

Grinning, Snufkin hums. "Moomin."

The other snorts out a short laugh, before correcting himself and tipping an imaginary hat. "Oh yeah, yeah, Snufkin."

He finishes drying off his fur with a towel before draping it over a hook on the back of the door, shaking a little to unflatten himself, so that he begins to resemble a fluffy cloud (or even more so than usual).

"You look comfy there."

It's a leading statement, more a question than anything else, if only one reads between the lines. Which Snufkin is quite good at.

"Yes, your bed is rather comfortable. It certainly beats your floorboards at any rate."

"Uh huh. I suppose that must be the only reason."

"Has Little My been telling you things?"

"What? No. I just… Usually you at least try to pretend you'd rather sleep in your tent than sleep with me."

Ignoring the way 'sleep with me' seems to make his heart beat a mile a minute, Snufkin shrugs. "I figured it was more of an unspoken arrangement now."

"Yes yeah, okay, yeah you're right," Moomin stumbles over his words as he turns out the light, joining Snufkin under the duvet. "I just wasn't expecting to see you all snuggled up comfortably in my bed, like you belong there."

Something about the way he says that makes Snufkin's cheeks flare up a gentle pink, blushing at how easily the other voiced how he views him right now, and the strange intonation on 'my'. "Well… Yes."

They lay in silence for a while, both of them on the edges of the mattress, almost too aware of the other's presence. If Snufkin focuses, he can hear the slow sound of Moomin's inhales and exhales, the way it almost sounds like he wants to ask something but keeps refraining, how every minute movement makes a sound almost as loud as thunder in the otherwise relative stillness.

"Why did you stop Little My from saying whatever she was going to say about us at the table this morning?"

The question sort of spills out of him before he really even thought over it, but he doesn't really think he'd have not asked had he thought about it first.

"I… I just wanted to annoy her…?"

Snufkin rolls over onto his side so he can stare at the other intently, hopefully to disturb him enough that he'll actually tell the truth this time.

But Moomin just crosses his arms over his chest and makes a face that reads 'you have your answer, that's all you'll get'.

"Moomin…"

"Okay fine, I didn't know what she was going to say and I didn't want either of us to get embarrassed…"

"Why would us sharing a bed be anything to get embarrassed over?"

"No reason!"

Raising an eyebrow, Snufkin sits up a little, shuffling closer so he can see the other's face better. "You answered that way too quickly."

"And you're sitting very close," the troll deflects, but doesn't make a move to widen the distance. "So I think that makes us even."

"How on earth does that make us even?" Snufkin frowns in confusion, but the way Moomin is looking up at him makes him stop. "Oh, you're funny."

"Mhmm, get it? Cause it actually doesn't but I said it does so it does," a furry finger pokes him gently in the chest, a small grin on his face. "And thank you, I think I am too."

"Being stuck inside is driving you crazy too isn't it."

"Absolutely."

They laugh softly, falling back into silence once more.

"Hey Snufkin?"

"Yes Moomin?"

"Come a bit closer a minute."

Wondering what harm it could do would be his normal thought process now; overthinking silently whilst looking perfectly calm on the surface is his speciality. But goodness, what he wouldn't do for a little harm right now.

So with self destruction in mind, he shuffles closer, bringing his face in line with Moomin's, bodies almost pressed together.

"Can I…" Moomin's left paw still rests on Snufkin's chest (did he move it, or has it been there this whole time?) and his other lifts up and carefully cups his cheek, so softly and sweetly, and he nods because Moomintroll really doesn't need to finish his question.

* * *

Does he care if everyone has noticed how happy both he and Moomin seem when they wander down the stairs the next morning? Not really, because Snufkin feels great, even if his lips are a little sore and bruised from all the kissing and making out they did last night.

It's never really been his thing, intimacy. But Moomin is special. He always has been really. So he's an exception.

"Mamma, where's Little My and Snorkmaiden?" Moomin asks as he takes his bowl of porridge from her paws.

Snufkin shakes himself a little bit and realises that, actually, it is way too quiet. He only didn't realise because the feeling of Moomin's lips on his is at the forefront of his mind completely, probably compromising him way more than he'd normally like (but it's quite a nice feeling so… He allows it).

"Well, I didn't want to wake you both, you seemed so tuckered out when I checked on you earlier," the older moomin responds, a small, knowing smile on her face. "But the quarantine is over, everyone's feeling a lot better now! So the girls decided to give everyone in the valley some of the flowers from the garden."

He flushes a little, realising she probably noticed how he was practically laying on top of the other before they woke up, limbs a mess and his head on Moomin's chest. But otherwise he feels free once more, able to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.

"Well, we could eat outside then, couldn't we Snuff?"

He nods, thanking Mamma as he takes his bowl from her and follows his best friend out to the veranda.

"I expect you're feeling pretty happy now," the troll says quietly, not meeting his eyes from across the table, dragging his spoon through his breakfast slowly. "You can do whatever you want, go anywhere again."

"Yes, I suppose I can…" Snufkin can tell he's not as happy as he'd expected, and he can probably guess it's because he thinks the mumrik might disappear somewhere for a while (which he might've, had last night not happened), but he doesn't want to make assumptions.

A sigh, and a scrape of wooden chair legs along the veranda, before Moomin sits back down next to him. "I'm not saying this because I want to stifle you, but I just… I want you to know how I feel."

He doesn't react, waiting with bated breath, unsure what kind of response the other might want. Maybe he wants him to tell him that he will stay with him (which would stress the mumrik out beyond hope), or maybe he expects him to tell him off for even entertaining the idea that Snufkin might change his mind about leaving the valley for a while, though he hopes he wouldn't think that about him.

"I don't want you to leave, not yet at least, cause what happened last night was nice and I'm worried it might… Scare you away."

Surprised by his honesty, Snufkin does take a moment to think before saying anything, knowing he has to be careful to not say the wrong thing. "I'm not scared away, okay? I'm here. It was nice, last night."

He smiles carefully and receives a small one in return, and that's good enough for them both to eat their breakfast.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> porn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;p

After having brought all of his stuff back down to his little campsite across the river, Snufkin decides to take a short wander through the forest to re-acquaint himself with nature and all of its inhabitants, making the most of his freedom whilst he has it.

Oh the boredom was horrendous, the feeling of imprisonment in a place he should feel comfortable in the antiphony of enjoyable. He shakes his every limb in an attempt to rid himself of the feeling of being a songbird trapped in a wire cage, taking many deep breaths and filling his mind instead with the sounds of the forest and the river.

Yes, the river…

Oh who's he kidding? All he can think about is the way Moomin leaned in close that night, gentle breaths ghosting across Snufkin's face as they stop for a moment, as if to make sure they know that either of them can pull away if they need to before closing the gap, soft lips against chapped, weather worn ones. And sure, the angle was hard to achieve at first, their noses constantly bumping, but it was so unimportant then. All that seemed to matter was the closeness, the intimacy, the way Moomin's fur felt under his fingertips, the way his clothes crumpled under paws that started at his face and slowly moved down to his waist, down to his hips, undershirt all messed up and full of awkward folds, heat between the two of them, a need, a desperation.

The darkness of the sky creeps up on him as he wanders back to his tent in somewhat of a lust hazen daze, and maybe usually he'd feel shame or embarrassment at such bold thoughts, but the remnants of his cabin fever are malicious in their want to hold on. And hold on to Moomintroll.

And the closer he gets back to his tent, the less he wants to be there, and the more he wants to be in Moomin's bed.

Logically, he knows he shouldn't. But… well, why shouldn't he? Obviously there's a spark; even if it was just a result of the awful quarantine, surely there's an underlying something there, right?

Snufkin feels like being stupid and dangerous, and so, for once, he decides to listen to his body instead of his mind.

* * *

The look of surprise on Moomin's face when he greets Snufkin at his window late that same night is enough to make the mumrik laugh, eyes wide as though he didn't think he'd see the other for ages.

"Snufkin?"

"It's awfully cold out tonight," he says, hoping the other catches the suggestion in his tone. "And I couldn't help but notice how warm your room looked from outside."

"But you've never complained before, and it's not even that cold ton...ight… Oh." Moomin blushes slightly from embarrassment, moving to the side to let Snufkin clamber in through the gap.

"Don't make me say it." The mumrik pleads (in a not very pleading way, but he hopes Moomin catches the shame in his eyes to know not to question).

The troll shrugs, holding out a paw to him, non-assuming, the way he always tries to be with Snufkin, and he takes it, allowing him to lead him to the bed they've been sharing for what feels like forever now.

Carefully folding his outer clothes after taking them off, his friend looking away courteously, he takes his side of the bed, smiling when Moomintroll turns to look at his form, snuggled under the covers once again.

"I couldn't sleep," he confesses as he joins him, searching Snufkin's face as though treading deep, opaque waters. "Not in a 'I had a nightmare' way but… It just felt strange without you here."

Forcing himself to swallow the stupid hope rising in his throat, Snufkin nods slowly. "I… Know what you mean."

"At least, maybe because we left things so unresolved last night… If you catch my drift?"

It's not something he expected him to say so suddenly. He thought he'd have to poke and prod for it (maybe even literally, if he was allowed to).

But part of him begins to sink. Is that all he meant? The physical stuff?

Better than nothing. It's not like he wasn't thinking the same thing the whole evening.

"Hm, I was thinking the same," forcing a coy smile to spread across his face, Snufkin sits up to straddle the troll's lap, ignoring the worry that they'll both be absolutely terrible at this. "Are we sure we’re doing this?"

Moomintroll nods firmly, eyes planted on where the two of them are pressed together, soft white fur against worn beige cotton. Maybe he should ask for a vocal confirmation, but does he really need to when Moomin's fingers are already diving beneath the waistband of his underwear, soft and setting his skin on fire?

Besides, there's no more time for talking, mouths pressing against each other in their own slow dance. His tongue presses against the troll's lips, inquisitive and needy, exhaling a short sigh as the other's joins his in exploring, sharing breaths and moans.

(It's kind of gross, Snufkin thinks humourously, but it’s still hot enough to keep him wanting more.)

Somehow this kiss is a lot  _ more _ than last night's, grabbing paws less hesitant, tongues more daring in their strange, erotic dance. And sure, they know each other's body better now.

Though, knowing Moomin even  _ more _ personally wouldn't go amiss.

"I don't… Think we should go the whole way?" The troll exhales as they pull apart for a moment, eyes sparkly and gorgeous in the amber glow of his bedside lamp. "Maybe not yet at least, you know?"

Snufkin nods, ideas floating around his head of what they could do, deciding to overthink the 'yet' when they aren't doing something so intense. "Uh… I have an idea. Don't panic."

"Why would I panic?" Moomin asks, sounding adorably confused.

He shrugs, kneeling up off the other's lap before turning around so he's facing Moomin's feet. He's seen this position in one of those very explicit magazines he's found amongst Pappa's secret stash (quarantine does mad things to people, it's not Snufkin's fault he gets skittish and searches for adventure in strange places). If they get it right, they should both be able to get off without going all the way. And without it taking too long. Because he needs it, as does Moomintroll.

"Uh… What are you doing?"

"Just trust me, Moomin," It comes out snappier than he'd meant for it too, but it's hard to regulate tone when you're trying to get into a '69' position upright. "Have some faith."

The troll huffs, but finally finds a way to help, holding Snufkin's hips and pulling him back so his crotch is against his snout once he has a better idea of what's happening. "Oh? And how do you know I was meaning that?"

Snufkin can practically feel the heat from the other's blush radiate suddenly, as he stutters. "Well… You s-see… I just… Saw it somewhere."

"Pappa's secret stash?"

"Yeah. Wait what? You've seen it too?"

Now it's the mumrik's turn to blush. Although he didn't feel much shame at the time, now? Admitting he was rifling through his best friend's dad's stash of porn, saw a position he quite liked, and is now about to test said position with said best friend is a little too much for him. "Uh… Yes."

Somehow, without saying it, they both seem to decide to leave that discussion there before continuing where they left off. Still blushing, mind still reeling a little more out of control than he'd like, Snufkin reaches back and tries to pull his underpants down unsuccessfully, the elastic waistband clinging uncomfortably around his hips before Moomin frees his lower half of its cotton prison.

"Cute," Moomin hums, making Snufkin blush as he turns his head to glare at him, laughing to himself as though he thinks that was a clever remark. "What? I think you're cute."

"I think those magazines have warped your idea of what a normal mumrik looks like."

"Aww, don't be embarrassed because you're not as hung as that guy," his voice drips with condescension, smug and somewhat teasing. Since when did the moomin become so weirdly confident? "Like I said, cute." Maybe he’s willing the panic Snufkin is sure he must be feeling away, the confidence like a cock-handed coping mechanism.

"Don't make me bite you. I will." Snufkin turns his head back around, silently hoping that he isn't much bigger, just to settle the annoyance in his gut (because it isn't anything else, he's not lying to himself).

Moomin shrugs before helping the mumrik free his cock from between his legs (awkwardly, but everything feels awkward since they haven't done this before), and his heart both sinks and swells. He's… Modestly big. Not so big Snufkin wouldn't be able to do much with it but big enough that he's definitely bigger than himself.

Different species have different proportions, it's completely normal that the other has bigger equipment. Besides, it's not such a big difference that he'd be embarrassed by it, so who cares?

Deciding to waste no more time debating cock sizes, Snufkin carefully takes hold of the other's shaft, slowly sliding his fist up to the flare of his head back down to his balls and repeating, listening to the soft moans his actions elicit from Moomin's mouth. His dick grows slightly under his ministrations, just filling out the girth a little more. 

He only just manages to get a taste of the other before a shock of electricity shoots up his spine, Moomin sliding his cock into his mouth effortlessly, the heat and the dampness of the orifice almost immediately overwhelming. But he steels himself; he can’t get distracted, this is for both of them after all.

Each tentative lick of his to the troll’s tip evokes some kind of reaction, be it a moan or a gasp or a gentle hip thrust, most of it returning the pleasure to Snufkin through gentle vibrations against the sensitive nerve endings in his cock. And sure, he didn't think it’d feel that good, but now he’s had a taste, all he wants is more. More pleasure, more heat, more of Moomin.

He can have all of that, he decides, taking the head into his mouth and gently sucking, trying to avoid catching his teeth on the skin of his best friend’s dick. The taste is so much  _ more _ now he's not just getting a tiny taste, salty and hot and musky, but not in an unclean way. Part of him wonders how he tastes to the other, but the rest of him agrees he’d rather not know.

Moomin moves his head back momentarily, taking a deep breath, and nuzzles the tip of his snout against the back of Snufkin’s thigh; the sensation tickles, and sends shudders through his legs that make him unsteady. “I could get used to this view,” the moomin hums softly, so quiet Snufkin wonders if he was meant to hear it or not, but there’s no stopping the embarrassment creeping its way onto his face. “Can I try something?”

The mumrik nods as best he can with a cock in his mouth (he can’t tell if he should be doing something else yet or not, the porn magazine wasn't very instructive). But when he feels a slightly slick digit slowly rub against his pucker, and electricity shoots up his spine, it takes all his might to not moan loud enough to wake the other inhabitants of the house.

“Good?” Moomin asks, and this time Snufkin can hear the uncertainty in his voice, the nerves he has just like himself, and it just makes everything feel so much more… special.

So instead of answering verbally, he decides to show him that it did feel good. Though it’s mostly guesswork, he thinks about what would feel good for him and mentally rolls his eyes, because it's really simple, he was just overthinking this entire time.

Slowly, because pacing is important, Snufkin takes more and more of Moomin’s dick into his mouth, as far as he can physically take him, until the tip of his head is hitting the back of his throat. He can still feel Moomin’s thumb rubbing teasingly over his hole, mouth once again preoccupied, taking long licks down his length and making it hard for the mumrik to stay on all fours.

He can't even think about whether it’s obvious to the others in the house what they're doing, and he's not sure he'd want to think about that too deeply (because leaving this unsatisfied would  _ definitely _ be a worst case scenario), but he can hear a jumbled mix of pleasured moans and soft gasping breaths mingling in the air around them, and it's a wonder no one's twigged.

Pressing his tongue flat against a particularly prominent vein causes the troll to push his hips upwards, the movement forcing his cock further down Snufkin's throat until he's unable to see through the tears collecting in his eyes from withholding the urge to gag. It doesn't hurt (the less self-respecting part of him actually enjoys how he feels used), but it's uncomfortable, and his throat uncontrollably clenches around the other's shaft.

It must feel good for the troll though, because Moomin's head flops back onto his pillow, spare paw fisted tight as he bites his arm slightly to stop the very loud groan leaving his throat from being audible outside their little horny bubble. So Snufkin does it again, pride and satisfaction at being good at making the other hot and bothered encouraging him along through the rather uncomfortable experience of having his air pipes cut off by a cock. With every flutter of his throat, the troll seems to struggle keeping himself still, so much so that Snufkin has to resort to pushing his hips down against the bed with his forearms so he doesn't completely choke.

He considers stopping when the other stops pleasuring him too, but it feels good to make the other feel good, and that's enough for now.

Moomintroll must be close to orgasm by now, if how much louder and more consistent his moans are says anything. The salty sweet taste of precum lingers at the back of his mouth as he begins to slide his cock out of his mouth and then back in, sucking and licking periodically to keep it interesting

And then, without much warning other than a short and stalled groan, cum begins to spurt from Moomin's cock and straight down his throat, hot and thick. Thankfully it doesn't last too long before Snufkin can pull his head back and catch a breath (okay sure, a small amount lands on his face because he couldn't wait any longer but he's fine with that really).

"Snuff, oh my god," Moomin exclaims, pupils huge with pleasure and sparkling so brightly that Snufkin can barely see because he's still a little teary from being choked. "That… was amazing."

He nods, ignoring the way his still rock hard cock aches a little as he turns around on the troll's lap before bringing a finger to his face and wiping his cum from it. "Good, I'm glad."

The other nods before placing his paws on the mumrik's hips and pulling him closer, looking away bashfully when Snufkin licks his finger clean. "Um… Your turn."

He doesn't have much of a chance to say anything as he's positioned practically directly above the other's face, only enough sense left in him to grip the headboard tightly between his paws before Moomin goes back to work, tongue sliding up and down his length, swirling around the head randomly enough that Snufkin has to regulate his breathing so he doesn't lose himself in the feeling. Maybe next time… The tent will be better, less need to be quiet.

Looking down, meeting Moomin's eyes as he sits on his face, having his cock sucked like it's the best thing the other's ever tasted, it's a surprise Snufkin doesn't die right then. All of this thanks to some illness in the valley.

His orgasm hits him like a tidal wave, strong and powerful and it takes all his willpower (and strength, gripping the headboard so tight he feels it might snap under the pressure) to not call out his best friend's name loud enough to wake his parents.

He's thankful the other has the sense to wrap his arms around the mumrik's waist, helping him to lay back down, muscles trembling enough that Snufkin thinks he might have fallen otherwise.

"Well that was… Something," Moomin grins, licking his lips not-so-subtly and making Snufkin cringe. "Same time tomorrow?"

The mumrik sighs, the sound soft with fond exasperation. "Lockdown has made a monster out of you Moomintroll."

Ignoring the mutters of how it was Snufkin that came onto him first, he snuggles back under the covers, body content, mind and heart sinking with sudden regret that he tries to bury for another time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i gotta stop making promises lmao
> 
> took a while and its subpar but it is what it is, still in lockdown, still trying to not be terrified constantly, having breakdown after mental breakdown ^^
> 
> shoutout to grimes' music somehow motivating me through this

**Author's Note:**

> Ya bitch is back but this time they're writing about being quarantined because they're self-isolating rn so here
> 
> (Basically I'm terrified so I'm writing to cope kskdkd)
> 
> UM SO HERE
> 
> I PROMISE, PROMISE, I WILL ACTUALLY REPLY TO COMMENTS SOON ;-;
> 
> SECOND HALF SOON


End file.
